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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25855414">Grass below you, sky above</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/kiwiana/pseuds/yourbuttervoicedbeau'>yourbuttervoicedbeau (kiwiana)</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Songs from the Jukebox [Prompt Fills] [29]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Schitt's Creek</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>(that's a real tag folks I didn't make that up), Baseball Idiots, Canon Compliant, Episode: s05e09 The M.V.P., M/M, POV Patrick Brewer, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Prompt Fill, Public Blow Jobs, Public Sex, Sexual Fantasy, Tumblr Prompt</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-08-12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-08-12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 06:28:13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,387</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25855414</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/kiwiana/pseuds/yourbuttervoicedbeau</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <em>“Remind me again why we’re having sex behind a tree?”</em>
</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Patrick Brewer/David Rose</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Songs from the Jukebox [Prompt Fills] [29]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1775569</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>36</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>237</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Grass below you, sky above</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>For an anonymous Tumblr prompt: <a href="https://yourbuttervoicedbeau.tumblr.com/post/624536679852670976/smut-prompts">Smut prompts #57: "If we get caught I’m blaming you." and #101: "Please, remind me again why we’re having sex behind a tree?"</a>. Thank you for the prompt! 🧡</p><p>Title is from Jonathan Coulton, because what other song could I possibly use for this.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p1">“Please, remind me again why we’re having sex behind a tree?”</p><p class="p1">It’s the third time Patrick has tried to ask, but only this time has he managed to push the words out. It’s not his fault; he can’t be expected to form actual coherent sentences when David is kneeling at his feet, brow furrowed in concentration as he deftly unbuckles Patrick’s belt.</p><p class="p1">It wasn’t his idea. David — <em>grass stains on your knees are incorrect </em>David, <em>what about the moths</em> David — had waited until it was almost dark, until the picnic tables around them were little more than indistinct blurs, and then he’d taken Patrick by the hand and tugged him towards the trees next to the baseball field without a word of explanation.</p><p class="p1">Not that Patrick had needed an explanation. He’ll follow David anywhere, anytime.</p><p class="p1">David grins up at him, the almost-full moon shedding just enough light that Patrick can make out the expressions on his face. He’s still wearing the baseball cap, though it’s a little askew from David bodily shoving him into the tree and then kissing him until his knees couldn’t hold him up anymore. But Patrick forgets, sometimes, that despite the way David holds himself there’s some real strength hidden underneath those long sleeves; when Patrick had started to slump against him David had simply pinned his hips to the tree with his huge hands splayed across Patrick’s stomach, dragging his stubbled jaw along the sensitive skin of Patrick’s throat before soothing the resulting sting with his tongue. It was only when he’d sunk to the ground that Patrick had had to find his footing again, and the only thing keeping him upright is the knowledge that if he can’t this might stop.</p><p class="p1">“Because,” David says, and it takes Patrick a moment to remember he was the one who asked a question. “It did not escape my attention this morning that you were a big fan of me in this uniform.” He grins up at Patrick before returning his gaze to eye level and Patrick knows the view David is getting must be obscene, can feel himself straining against his zipper even before David’s fingers brush achingly gently along it. “And I did win the game for you today, so I think I deserve a treat.”</p><p class="p1">“You did, you were so good,” Patrick says, far softer than he intended; he brushes a thumb along David’s cheek and can tell by the way David squeezes his eyes shut that the sincerity has hit its mark. “And seeing as you were the MVP, are you sure we shouldn’t be the other way around?”</p><p class="p1">David shakes his head quickly as he works Patrick’s fly open. “No, I think this is exactly what I want,” he says in a low, syrupy voice that makes Patrick shudder. He’s not surprised; Patrick loves sucking dick but David… David lives for it. In the early days of their relationship he got off with Patrick’s cock in his mouth more often than not, until Patrick had to point out that he’d really <em>like</em> to get his hands (and mouth, and whatever else he could) on David too, please.</p><p class="p1">With some manoeuvring, David has finally managed to pull Patrick’s dick free of its confines, exposing him to the night air and making him gasp with the combination of the cold air and the relief at feeling himself spring free. David mouths carefully along the length of him, hot breath making him twitch against David’s lips.</p><p class="p1">“If we get caught, I’m blaming you,” Patrick breathes. “This is <em>your</em> fantasy.”</p><p class="p1">David hums low in his throat. “Oh, I think it might be a little bit yours too,” he murmurs as he starts giving teasing, tiny licks to the underside of his dick. “Someone in this sports uniform stretching their lips around your cock.” Patrick whimpers as the words curl through him, leaving a burning need in their wake.</p><p class="p1">“Uh huh,” Patrick manages. “And is the public indecency angle mine too, do you think?” His tone is far less teasing than he’d like and more teased, and David’s smile turns positively feral in the moonlight.</p><p class="p1">“Well,” he breathes right over the head of Patrick’s dick and Patrick can <em>feel</em> himself leaking; his thighs are starting to shake with need and David rests his hands on them, stilling him. “We can’t do this in the dorm rooms, can we?”</p><p class="p1">Jesus. Patrick lets his head tilt back against the bark, a low groan forcing its way out of this throat. David has the uncanny ability to tap into fantasies Patrick didn’t even know he had, but now the words are out in the air that’s exactly what he wants; his baseball star boyfriend on his knees, desperate with wanting him.</p><p class="p1">The best part of it is, it’s not even a fantasy. It’s just his life.</p><p class="p1">“David, please,” he whispers, his voice cracking. And David finally, finally wraps those beautiful, perfect lips around Patrick’s cock and slides down. Patrick’s just starting to lose himself in the sensation when there’s a jabbing pain and they both remember David is still wearing his cap; Patrick pulls it off his head and tosses it blindly off to the side before running his hands softly through David’s hair, unflattening it a little before he winds his fingers into the strands and tugs.</p><p class="p1">When he feels more than hears David growl, the vibrations in David’s throat sending shockwaves through him, Patrick knows the teasing portion of the evening is over. Both hands come off Patrick’s legs for a moment while David gets his pants open and then only his left hand returns, fingers digging tight into Patrick’s thigh as David draws him further into his mouth. Patrick can’t see his other hand, which is a crying shame because he knows David is working himself frantically, can see his shoulder moving, and he reaches out to wrap his hand around David’s bicep so he can feel the muscles shifting under his palm as David jerks off. The other hand stays tangled in David’s hair, fingers scratching at his scalp as David swallows him down until his forehead is pressed against Patrick’s stomach.</p><p class="p1">“David...” He’s so close, feels like his whole body is trembling as David pulls back far enough to run his tongue over the slit and Patrick has to channel all his willpower into keeping himself standing as his orgasm barrels through him, exploding onto David’s tongue as he swallows it down eagerly. Once Patrick is starting to soften David pulls off gently, pressing his forehead into Patrick’s thigh as he continues to stroke himself — and no, that’s not going to work for Patrick at all.</p><p class="p1">He still has a hand on David’s arm, and he pushes at it. “Let me see,” he pleads and David glances up at him, pupils lust-blown and hazy before he nods, sitting back on his heels and <em>God. </em>The sight is almost enough to make Patrick believe he could get hard again, the flushed redness of David’s dripping cock moving in and out of his fist as he stares up at Patrick and pants through swollen lips.</p><p class="p1">He’s close, Patrick can tell by the flush that has started to creep up his neck. “Come for me, David,” he murmurs and David’s eyelashes flutter closed as he does exactly that with a loud wail.</p><p class="p1">Patrick tucks himself away while David recovers, and once he’s decent he holds his hand out to pull David to his feet. He turns the flashlight on his phone on and recovers David’s cap, and when he turns around again the light allows him to see David properly — he’s done his pants and belt back up but the grass stains are stark on the white fabric and Patrick knows there’s no way the marks can be passed off as sports-related.</p><p class="p1">“There’s no way we’re going to get the stain out of those,” he says, and David glances down at himself before looking back up with a small smile. He stalks over to Patrick, plucking the cap out of his hand and putting it back on his head with a smirk.</p><p class="p1">“I think we could,” he says in a low voice. “But if they’re mine, I don’t think you really want to.”</p><p class="p1">And, well. Patrick can’t disagree with that, so he isn’t going to try.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thanks so much for reading! Come and find me on <a href="http://yourbuttervoicedbeau.tumblr.com">Tumblr</a>.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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